Archive for April 9th, 2018

Where does pleasure come from? A lot of it comes from the mind, but an important part comes from the body. In modern culture, we take for granted what certain, er, body parts will look and feel like. But throw a little history and diverse cultures into the mix, and things can get…different. At a mission in Africa, Zenda and Gavin struggle with conflicting cultural mores and an overwhelming attraction to each other. Will passion define who they are or the other way around?

Mission of Pleasure

Gavin Douglas joins a Scottish mission as a carpenter to escape painful memories of his wife’s death from a back-alley abortion she tried to keep secret from him. The last thing he expects to find in Africa is instant attraction to a native.

For the past year, Zenda has devoted her time to Claymore Missionary, secretly erasing everything taught to her tribe’s children to prevent them from becoming whitewashed. Nothing else matters except claiming her tribal identity as a woman. But before her eagerly awaited rite of passage can take place, Gavin lays his own claim on her body, igniting desires she can’t face losing.

Gavin is horrified to learn of the physical transformation—and associated risks—she insists on undergoing. When he realizes his biggest loss may be yet to come, his only mission is to teach Zenda pleasure.

Daughters of Africa ~ African women who shaped the world and the men who love them

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To his utter shock, Zenda grabbed the hem of her robe and lifted it up her legs and torso. Dumbstruck, he watched as it sailed over her head and landed neatly onto the nearest rock. Nothing remained on her body except her necklace and a brief loincloth.

Fully revealing her breasts. Tipped on the ends with nipples as dusky as soot, they made the most perfect picture he’d ever seen. A sudden weight pressed against his whirlygigs until he feared they might explode.
How could a girl who’d shied away from kissing flaunt her bare breasts as if they were no different than her elbows? He clearly had a lot to learn about Africans…

To cool his burning crotch, he waded in with her. Remembering the mission rules and the boy with the spear, he decided to leave his clothes on. Besides, he didn’t know what kind of sharp-toothed creatures might be lurking in the murky-brown pool.

Her chest looked even lusher with rivulets of water forming pearly webs across her dark skin. She couldn’t expect him not to touch her. The calm surface of the pond rippled as he scampered across the moss-slickened rocks underfoot.

She backed up a step, much more gracefully than he. When her eyes widened, he almost glanced over his shoulder to see if a lion crouched nearby. Until he realized the creature she feared was him. A dragonfly landed on her shoulder, flexing its lacy wings, ready to fly away at any moment.

What was she trying to do? Lure him into doing something that might get him into trouble? He’d broken the mission’s anti-lust rule today many times over. After all, he was a white man, the enemy. And she’d made it clear she didn’t care for the whites moving into her land and changing everything.

But a man had only so much self-control, and his had just run out. After locking an arm around her waist, he pulled her body into his and clamped his mouth on the peak of one breast. The dragonfly darted off, buzzing past his head.

Her sharp grunt raised the hair on his arms. Because he didn’t know if she’d done it from fear or pleasure. And what really shocked the hell out of him? He didna care.

She dug her fingernails into the back of his wet shirt as he sucked the other firm peak between his lips. His jaw convulsed, causing him to nick her puckered flesh with his teeth. She grunted again and churned the water into a frenzy with her flailing limbs.

He backed her against a half-submerged mangrove tree, grinding her soft pelvis against the curved root until the latter creaked and damn near snapped. He tugged on his belt, a heartbeat away from releasing his cock and spearing her with it.

Good God. I’m acting like a savage beast!

How could they exchange prayers about trees one moment and end up this way the next? He had no idea he’d been carrying around such pent-up needs. Never before had he felt such burning lust for any woman—of any color. Maybe he’d better head back to port and find a place where he’d be safer and saner. A place with no women.

With a wrench, he pulled himself from her. She wasted no time throwing herself at him, like a cougar leaping from a tree branch, until he fell into the water.

Sputtering, he surfaced for air. “What the hell did you do that for?”

She cradled her hardened, wet nipples in her pale palms, which didna slake his lust one damn bit.
“Y-you attacked me!”

“And you asked for it,” he said, still gasping from the water he’d choked on below. “Parading around in front of me half naked.”

She gazed down at her upturned breasts, understanding dawning on her face.